This is a little tough yet so easy to write about at the same time. I am an orphan. I became an orphan at twelve, the day after Christmas in 2012.
Throughout my blog, I will write bits and pieces of my story; somehow, it will never be all. My earliest memory as a child is of me writing: writing on paper, writing on our typewriter, on literally anything. Even if it was not perfect words or words at all… I could express myself by speaking in my mind and letting it flow through my fingers.
You may arrive at this post because of my “About Emily” page referencing this story. So, as briefly as possible, I will tell you about becoming an orphan. I will continue to share more as they come up.
My dad passed away when I was just six years old. That really hurt because it meant we had to leave the only home I knew, the only family I truly knew that loved and cared for me and my sister. The journey to Texas from Arizona was not easy by any means, but that’s something I may be able to get into later that involves many moving parts. My mom moved us back to Texas with her family, and she was going to get clean from drugs. It was hard, but she did it….for a while.
Fast forward to 2012, we are not living with our mother anymore. She is at her parents’ house, newly in hospice, and we are staying with her friend in an entirely different city. We were supposed to visit her for Christmas, but that did not happen, so we would go that next day or two.
We never got that chance. We never got to say, “See you later.” We got the call on December 26, 2012, at 8:15 pm that she had passed away. My mom, my only living parent, is now gone. I dropped the shoes in my hands and did not remember anything for a while. Then began the calls letting people know the news.
“You’re an orphan now.” Those were some of the first words spoken to me after the announcement.
Wow.. I did not expect to cry while typing this out, but I haven’t thought about that moment. Almost 11 years now. I remember so much yet so little surrounding the days after her death. The viewing, the hours-long procession to the graveside, the funeral, not being able to put our note and picture in with her ourselves, watching so intently, hoping to get one last glance. “That’s my mother. I don’t care how she looks; that’s my mom, and I deserve to get to say goodbye”.
I remember the visitation before she passed with her hospice care nurse talking to my sister and me about what was happening. All I was saying in my head was, “Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, you can’t cry” As the tears started slipping and I heard my sister bawling. The hospice nurse was oh so sweet, but how do you explain to two kids that they are losing their mother? Their only other parent. That their whole world is about to change. Again.
You don’t. You can’t. It doesn’t make any sense. Yet, it happened. It happens a lot.
My life forever changed in these moments. I was no longer loved in the space I was living. I was no longer with my sister, who I grew up with.
Everything changed- for the worse.
I then, alone, had to go with my new guardians. Isolated from anyone I had been close with. I was confused, scared, and hurt. This environment was verbally and emotionally abusive.
Becoming an orphan was a pivotal part of my life. In a way, it has made me who I am today. Many things happened in my life, good and bad, because I lost my parents. It is sad in some ways, but it is best that my parents died. Life would not have happened as it has if they had not. Life could have worked out and been beautiful if they lived, but I could have stayed in bad or worse conditions. Not sure that I would want to find out.
Believe it or not, this is the simple version. I will continue to share more stories about my time growing up and walking through healing from it all.